


Winding London Roads

by bazypitchandsimonsnow (ChessPargeter)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz Pitch Can't Communicate, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Simon Snow is a Bad Driver, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 09:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17846906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChessPargeter/pseuds/bazypitchandsimonsnow
Summary: Baz wants to ask Simon to move in with him. But he can never make things easy for himself.Based on "obstacle course" request.





	Winding London Roads

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure what "obastacle course" would mean fic wise. I considered doing Simon and Baz in a sort of Indiana Jones-esque scenario, but that ended up getting too long to write considering my school workload and still editing/posting my big bang. I may write it in the future but who tf knows with me. So enjoy this fluff :)

**Baz**

After all these years, I’ve realised Simon Snow isn’t going to die kissing me. He’s going to die while driving me.

“Aleister Crowley, Snow, watch out!” I yell. Simon just stops before we get hit by a lorry coming in the round about. It lets out a low, long honk at us. Simon glares at me across his shoulder.

“What the fuck Baz?” he snaps. “Don’t scare me like that!”

I glare right back. “Don’t get us hit by a lorry, then I won’t scare you.”

“I wasn’t going to hit it.” I don’t bother to argue. He’s obviously not going to budge.

This is a terrible idea. Absolutely horrendous. Snow has no business being behind the wheel, especially with me in the passenger seat. But he insisted on it. He’s got his learner’s permit and wants to drive as much as possible to learn. Which means he’s stubbornly decided to drive us to Crowley knows where for some sort of date. If we don’t die before then.

Simon pulls into the roundabout (without crashing us into anything, thank Merlin). He goes far too slow though, and we get many angry honks. It sounds like bloody New York City. But we make our way around eventually, Simon almost misses the exit of course.

“Why couldn't you practice driving some other time?” I ask. “Why must you practice in the middle of bloody London?”

“Because _I’m_ taking _you_ somewhere. And it’s a surprise.”

“You could’ve taken me on the tube.”

“Yeah, but I also need to practice driving in London. It’s where I’ll be driving when I have my full license.”

“No one drives in London, love.”

He turns onto a main street, packed to the bloody gills with regular cars and cabbies alike. Simon makes a grand, sweeping gesture over the windshield. “Then what are those, hm?”

He’s looking all smug and shit, and I just roll my eyes. “Idiots who are driving in London, and shall be for another twenty years at the rate we’re moving.”

Simon glares and sticks his tongue out at me, because he is truly a child at heart. I roll my eyes again and cross my arms.

Like I predict, we sit in traffic for quite awhile. I lean back on the headrest with my eyes closed. Simon probably assumes I’m just tired, which I am, but I’m also thinking. Thinking about something that’s been on my mind for quite awhile. But I’m not sure how to bring it up. Well, I know what I want to say. “ _Hey Snow, I know Bunce is leaving for America soon, and I know we also agreed we needed to have different roommates for awhile, but it’s been five years. So maybe, we could find our own flat.”_

But every time I try to do it I lose my nerve. What if he doesn’t really want to stay in London? What if he still doesn’t feel ready to live with me again? What if he simply doesn’t want to? No reason, no explanation, he just doesn’t want to live with me again. All those possibilities fill my brain like a fog and the words die in my throat. I’m still such a coward sometimes.

Finally, we reach an intersection. “I know I don’t know where we’re going, but you should turn here, Snow. Get off the main drag.”

Simon snorts as he turns. “That sounds so American.”

“Blame Bunce’s boyfriend. His Americanisms are infecting me.”

“His name is Micah, and it’s not just you. I caught myself saying ‘fries’ yesterday instead of chips. Soon I’ll be wearing cargo shorts and an American flag tank top.”

“I will break up with you if you do that.”

We get to another intersection, and Simon turns so he can flash an absolutely shit eating grin at me. “I love you, too, Basilton.”

He says it so casually, because it is casual now. I used to keep track of every ‘I love you’ that came from Simon’s mouth, but after a year or so I lost count. Somehow, it became a simple truth that Simon Snow, former Chosen One and current insane motorist, loves me. I know this well. So why was it so damn hard to just ask the wonderful git to move in with me?

“How are the wonder couple?” I ask. “They’ve been so lovey dovey at your place it makes me want to sick up.”

“Like we’re ones to talk,” Snow chuckles, carefully driving down the narrow cobblestone road. “Pen says she’s getting payback for years of accidentally walking in on us.”

“For Crowley’s sake, that was one time.”

“Three times.”

“In five years!”

“She caught us snogging a lot.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Hardly a traumatizing event.”

“Yeah, but I bet she’ll be glad to not have to worry about that at all in America.”

He says it easily, just as easily he tells me he loves me. It’s another simple truth; Penelope Bunce is moving to America with her boyfriend, and Simon and I are staying here. There will be an ocean between Simon and his best friend. It was true, but it wasn’t easy.

I reach over and put a hand on his knee, squeezing it lightly. He doesn’t look down, but I don’t mind. We’ve spent lots of quiet tete a tetes talking about his feelings over this. If it’s easier for him not to acknowledge it now, while he’s trying to get onto a particularly busy London street, that’s fine.

“You know, funny thing,” Simon chuckles, still looking for an opening to turn, “Pen actually told me she’s going to miss you.”

My eyes get impossibly wide. We’ve faced down dragons and supervillain clones, but somehow that is the most improbable thing I’ve ever heard. “Seriously? Miss me? She bickers with me constantly.”

“Yeah, because you’re the only one who can keep up with her. She told me she’s going to miss all your smarty pants book talks. But don’t tell her I told you that. She doesn’t want to blow up your ego.”

I snort, but only to cover up my embarrassment. Bunce and I are friends, sure, but the fact that she’s actually going to miss me hits somewhere deep in my gut. Because, well, I will admit, I like our “smarty pants book talk” too. And I’m going to miss having them too.

“Oh Crowley,” I say quietly, the revelation washing over me, “I’m going to miss her too.”

Simon chuckles, sounding unusually smug. “Uh, yeah. You just figured that out?”

I would flick his smug, gorgeous face if he wasn’t driving. So I just roll my eyes. “Fuck off. I’m not good with feelings, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just rare that I know something that you don’t. Let me bask in that for moment.”

“Arsehole.”

“And you love me.”

I squeeze his knee again, holding for a tad longer. I’m still not superb at physical affection but this seems right. “I do, a lot.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” he teases. I love that we can tease each other about it. Because it’s so well established. I love him I want to spend my entire life with him. And first step would be living together. I wish I could just ask him. Maybe if I lead into it...

“So,” I say slowly, “Fiona has met someone.”

Simon perked up, partly from what I said and partly because the light suddenly turns red. The car jerks forward slightly. I knock my knees against the front, but it’s honestly better than getting into a fender bender.

“Oh really? Uh, drummer or travel blogger?” Simon asks, voice still a bit strained probably from our near accident.

I chuckle. “Actually, no. She’s a fellow vampire hunter, the first mage she’s dated in ages. And they’re very serious, I think.”

Simon makes a weird noise as drove ahead. What is going on in that beautiful head of his? “Well, that’s good. I sorta like Fiona by now. She deserves to be happy and all that shite. After all the stuff she went through.”

He’s talking weirdly. It’s not bad or good, just...weird. Like he’s holding himself back maybe. But he also sounds on edge. For someone usually so obvious he was being very closed off right now. “Uh, yeah. They’re good. You’ll probably meet her at the next horrible Grimm-Pitch Christmas dinner.”

“Looking forward to it,” he chirps.

I snort. “Sure you are.” I rub my hand up and down his rough denim. I find the feeling comforting. Well, I find everything involving Simon comforting, really. But this is particularly nice. “But yes, Fiona is very happy. She’s very in love. However, her girlfriend lives far up north.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. And she’s pretty attached to the north. So, she’s thinking about...relocating.”

Simon made a sharp turn on to another side street. I’m forced closer to the window, letting me look around at the buildings. Huh, I don’t think I’m familiar with this part of London. Where is he taking me? “Oh, really?”

“Mhm. I know Fiona must really love her to get her to consider moving out of London. But it’s becoming a real possibility. She’s actually thinking of selling her flat.”

He makes another turn so sudden my head nearly bashed into the side. Is he going faster? “That’s really neat,” he says, voice strained.

What’s going on with him? Why is he going so fast? Why is he so nervous? Does it have something to do with Bunce? I hope not. He’s already stressing about that enough, I didn’t think it could get worse. I hold his leg tight. “Simon, love, are you-”

“We’re here!”

The car comes to a sudden, screeching halt. I nearly bash my head into the dashboard and my nails dig into Simon’s thigh. Once I’ve collected myself, I’m concerned about my suspension and tired.

“Snow,” I hiss, “what the fuck? Are you trying to kill me? Are you alright?”

“Sorry, love, sorry. Just almost missed it.”

“Missed what?”

Simon grins, teeth reflecting the light so he really is the sun. “Come out and see.”

Okay, that’s ominous. But he’s smiling so genuinely, and I love him, and I trust him. So despite my natural caution, I step out of my car with him.

“Ta-da!” Simon shouts, arms spread wide like a grand TV presenter. And I’m...confused.

“What is it?” I ask with genuine bewilderment.

Simon frowns almost pathetically. “What do you think it is, arsehole?”

“Uh...” I look around. We’re standing in front of a boxy World War Two era apartment building. It’s alright though. The grey cement isn’t too ugly, and it looks clean. The garden is lovely though. It’s lush with a veritable rainbow of lovely flowers. I know Simon has been getting into gardening. (His therapist told him to find something that made him happy. That turned out to be getting his hands dirty and pretty flowers.)

“The garden?” I say. “It’s very lovely. Yours is nicer though, love.”

Simon rolls his eyes and groans. “No, not the garden.” He shook his arms. “The building, Baz. I’m talking about the building.”

I look it over again. Has Simon taken a new interest in post 1945 architecture? “It’s a nice building, but I think I need some more context.”

“Right, right, sorry.” He steps forward and takes one of my hands in his. I have to stop myself from getting distracted by his warm, calloused fingers. “We’re here at this building because there’s an open flat here, and I think we should look at it. As somewhere we could live. Together.”

My eyes got incredibly, impossibly wide. My dead heart is roaring in my ears. He’s not joking. He’s smiling softly, holding my hand, absolutely nothing but genuine caring. I’m dumbstruck, just standing there looking at him. I can’t believe it.

“You...” I say softly, “you want to move in with me?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, like it’s obvious.

“But, I thought we wanted different roommates...”

Simon looks surprised for a moment, eyes going wide. Then he bursts out in raucous laughter. He throws his head back, curls falling down his neck. I turn beat red and look at the ground.

“Fuck off,” I grumble.

Simon’s hand travels up my arm, stepping closer. I’m immediately comforted by his scent; brown and sweet, mixed with his shea butter shampoo. I would happily die with that smell in my nose.

“I’m sorry,” he cooed. “But Baz, that was five years ago. We were both freshly traumatized and still trying to figure out our relationship. But we’re better now, right?” I nod, because he’s right. We’re not perfect but we’re absolutely better. “Exactly. So since Penny is...going away soon, maybe we can try living together again. If you want to, that is. We don’t have to.”

I start nodding immediately. I don’t need to hesitate anymore, because he absolutely wants this as much as me. “No, I absolutely want to. I’ve, uh, actually been agonizing for ages over how to ask you, but I kept coming up with reasons not to.”

Simon giggles and takes my other hand. “You gotta get out of your own big head sometimes, love. It’s a fucking maze up there.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, “I know. But you seem to be able to navigate it. Or at least blow it to bits.”

“That’s my specialty,” he chirps. He tugs me towards the building, ascending one step. The sunlight makes his hair sparkle just like his smile. All my anxieties dull under that grin. Merlin, he’s incredible. “C’mon, let’s go.”

I follow him up the steps, squeezing his hand. “Absolutely.”

We go in, and the building manager takes up to the flat. It’s a nice place. There’s some furnishings, a queen sized bed, and a nice bathroom. Simon runs around looking at every room. He’s mumbling about how we could arrange furniture and where Bunce and Micah could stay when they visit. I ask the manager about money related things like rent and utilities and security deposit. It all seems reasonable enough. Though Simon did say there were other places. We should probably check them out first.

“Baz!” Simon yells. “There’s a balcony!”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Excuse me,” I say to the building manager. He gives me a nod and a smile, a very gracious man.

I walk towards Simon’s voice. Just off the living room, he’s standing on a small balcony, hands holding the railing as he leans out. I would be more worried but his wings are still there even if they’re invisible. (He can’t really fly but he can certainly glide.) I stand next to him, putting an arm across his waist.

“Look at this view!” he says. “You can see half of London from here. Imagine it at night.”

He’s right, it’s gorgeous. The buildings both old and new are spread out before us. I can see Canary Wharf and a few of London’s castles too. There’s a lush green park with a dazzling fountain only a few blocks away. Even the Thames looks pretty from here. I smile and lean against him.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. “Though we’re going to look at other places too, love.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve got a list on my phone. And just to be clear, we’re not looking at Fiona’s place.”

What? I look at him with resounding bewilderment. “Why would we look at Fiona’s place?”

Simon looks at me with just as much confusion. “Isn’t that what you were about to say before? Fiona’s moving, so you want us to take her place.” He frowns in some sort of determined annoyance. “But I don’t like it there. It’s too richy rich for me, and I, uh,” his cheeks go a bit red and he looks down at his feet, “sorta want us to get a new flat just for us, y’know? Something new that’s only our’s. I-It’s stupid, I know, I-”

“No no,” I say, pulling him closer, “it’s not stupid. I want somewhere for us too. And for the record, I wasn’t saying we should take Fiona’s place. The rent is insane, it is too richy rich, and the marijuana and nicotine smell have permeated the walls.”

“Yeah, exactly. I wanted to get here to show you to this place before you said something.”

“Hence why you drove like a madman?”

“...yes.”

I chuckle and lean my cheek on his soft hair. “Well, I was actually talking about Fiona to not so subtly bring up that I was going to be without a flat soon, so we should find one for ourselves. Though I did thoroughly enjoy fearing for my life.”

He kicks my ankle. “Fuck off.”

I press a kiss to his temple. “Never. You’d miss me too much.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He puts his arm around my shoulder and presses closer. His warmth is almost infectious. “I’m looking forward to it though. Having our own place. That’s not a dorm room and we don’t avoid each other because we’re y’know, magical mortal enemies and shit.”

Crowley, who allowed this man to be so adorable? It’s criminal. I tilt his head up and kiss him softly. It’s slow, simple, filled with truths; I love Simon Snow, Simon Snow loves me, we both need new places to live, we want to live together again, and it’s going to be fantastic. Part of me is kicking myself for ever being worried. But a bigger part of me wants to keep kissing him. So I do just that, like I want to for the rest of our goddamn lives.

I can’t wait to start this new chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> So what was the real obstacle course? London's insane fucking roads, the conversation, or Baz's anxieties? Oooooo so many questions, I'm such a deep writer, ooooo. Jk jk, it's whatever you think it is. This fic is not that deep lol. After writing Black Swan, it was nice to write some simple fluff. It's a bit meandering and weird sure but was fun to write. Hope y'all enjoyed reading it. And thanks to the person who requested :) 
> 
> I've got like three requests still sitting in my inbox and I'm gonna try to get those done as quickly as possible. Also, reminder, I'm not taking anymore fic requests rn but will most likely open them again in May after exams. School sucks ugh.
> 
> If you guys like this, feel free to check out my ongoing Swan Lake AU fic [The Black Swan.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567486/chapters/41402105) Thanks for reading, see you guys again soon!


End file.
